


Sunshine Hair and Golden Eyes

by viridianova



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Idol AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1466170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viridianova/pseuds/viridianova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's only one fan that really matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunshine Hair and Golden Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tormalyne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tormalyne/gifts).



When he was on stage with K-Jou, he was Yuki (or Yuki-chan, if his fans were feeling bolder than usual), but when he was pulling his secondary persona— the one less occupied with being the leader of a boy band and more famous for his talents on acoustic guitar, he was more often called Kasamatsu Yukio. Even the fans who knew about "Yuki" (which didn't take much effort, it's not like there was much difference besides how he styled his hair and what clothes he wore) knew not to bring that up here. They were two separate people, no matter how obvious it was that maybe they weren't.

There was one fan, though, who stood out— not because he was male, although that alone was kind of unusual. He stood out because he was so _pretty_ ; he looked like he belonged up on stage more than Kasamatsu ever would, honestly. He was dressed really well for this tiny, dingy venue, like he'd just come from a much nicer prior engagement. That kind of pissed him off because Kise Ryouta knew he didn't like it when he did that.

There wasn't enough time to offer him more than a glare though, and his response to that, as usual, was to smile and sit in the front row, in the center seat, knowing full well that Kasamatsu wouldn't be able to look anywhere else.

Kasamatsu hated that it was true, too.

He knew what kind of engagement Kise had been coming from today— or at least he had a guess. Kise was a model, a famous one, and was probably more popular publicly than all of K-Jou combined. He probably just had one of his fancy agency dinners, or more likely just walked out of one, because Kise Ryouta could do whatever he wanted, and apparently that mostly consisted of coming to every single one of Kasamatsu's shows. He still didn't really get it.

His agent gave him a dirty look from the wings of the stage and gestured toward her watch. She mouthed: _You're supposed to be introducing yourself, Yukio. Stop staring off into space._. That brought him back to earth. A little bit, anyways. It's not like she didn't know, but the entire agency was a little bitter about his relationship with Kise; they couldn't even get K-Jou more famous from it, so she just pretended that he wasn't there in the front row, sitting back in his seat and getting comfortable. No one here was here for Kise after all, and for reasons Kasamatsu would never understand, he seemed to love it.

* * *

He performed his usual set— ten songs, all of which he'd written himself. It had been a battle to get that much from his agency too, but the songs were mostly pretty harmless. The only thing he had to do was run the songs by his agent before he performed them so they could deem if any of them weren't appropriate. It mostly meant that they didn't want him singing any songs about golden hair or sunshine eyes or anything that might lead back to his strange little affair with that model.

As a result, his songs were mostly boring, but Kise still managed to watch each one with a level of attention that honestly made Kasamatsu a little more pissed off than he should be. He had to know that these songs didn't really mean anything— and he'd heard them all at least five times now, every time he'd done one of these performances in a seedy Tokyo club.

It's like he thought those shitty love songs were all written for him or something.

* * *

He was standing outside the club when he was done. Kasamatsu couldn't remember seeing him leave, and that must have shown on his face because Kise laughed suddenly and held out a hand.

"You did well tonight, Kasamatsu-san." There was a bit of a lilt on the honorific, like it was something mocking instead of respectful. He'd called him senpai a few times when they'd first met, but that just felt creepy once you were out of high school— and when the guy saying it was more successful than you'd ever dreamed of being.

He just scowled at him, not taking the hand. "Why'd you stay? Don't you have somewhere better to be?"

Kise just smiled and put the hand down once it was obvious that Kasamatsu wasn't going to take it. "Not really. The party I was at was boring, and I thought you'd want me to be there."

"My manager hates you."

"I know."

"My band hates you."

"You have a band?" And there he winked a little and stepped away. Kasamatsu almost raised his fist— almost wanted to give Kise a slap for that, just for making fun of him again, but they were still outside and where Kise lurked, his fans were lurking too.

"Shut up."

"Kasamatsu-san, you've gone soft," he whispered, but he'd grabbed Kasamatsu's hand before he could even slap it away. "You'd punch me before, it hasn't really been that long, you know?"

Kasamatsu can't look at him because he knew that Kise was wearing that stupidly smug, loving grin like he always did. "Why do you always come?"

"I like your songs."

"Why?"

He paused. "They sound nice, like you're talking about someone you love."

"I'm not."

He dropped Kasamatsu's hand. "You're not?"

"I'm not."

* * *

It was hard to say whether Kasamatsu was in denial or not. It wasn't like their relationship was public at all, or like Kise got anything from pursuing the leader of a somewhat second-rate idol unit. His manager was convinced that this guy was just using him, and was just trying to crush K-Jou so that he could start his own idol group and keep going steady on his quest to take over the world. He'd mentioned this to Kise once and he just laughed in that obnoxious, musical way that only he could.

"Kasamatsu-san," he'd said back then, "I don't need to take anyone's fame. I don't have to try, you know?"

He'd gotten a kick in the ass for that.

But he still came to every performance Kasamatsu had, and still waited for him afterwards every time, and Kasamatsu was less likely to kick him every time— something that Kise never failed to gloat over, either. It was exasperating and obnoxious, but Kise didn't bring up his songs again, at least.

After he'd come five more times, Kasamatsu realized he'd have to be the one to change things here.

"You know that set's never gonna change, right?" He'd gotten used to letting Kise hold his hand these days, and he'd even let Kise take him to a bar in Nichoume this time. Being with someone so incredibly well known had its perks— Kise was able to get them a private room, and no one even had a chance to wonder who was with the most beloved model, Kise Ryouta, and why he happened to be in Nichoume. It was a bit of an open secret— one that somehow never managed to get much beyond the entertainment industry. As long as he didn't actually fuck anyone he met here, Kise had assured him quite conversationally that he could pretty much get away with whatever he wanted— including getting private rooms in busy, plush Nichoume bars, apparently.

He just smiled again, more quietly this time.

"It sounds a little different every time. You've gotten warmer. You mean it more."

Kasamatsu just sputtered, but Kise wouldn't let him look away this time.

"You really aren't singing them while thinking about someone?"

Kasamatsu paused. It was true— the words were the same but the way he had been singing them were different this time. He looked at Kise sometimes as he was singing them, and there was more force in his words now, like it wasn't all just something to appease his agent. Of course, his agent was pissed— and would probably be even moreso, when she heard that he was here.

"Sometimes."

Kise paused, like he was waiting for a bad answer.

"For who?"

Kasamatsu leaned in then— for the first time. He leaned in just for the sake of whispering—

"Who do you think, idiot—" and then pressed a kiss to Kise's cheek.

At least he could have the satisfaction of Kise having a bit of pink in his cheeks, but only for a second, because Kise started laughing again in that painfully musical way that only he could.

"How long?" He smiled again, putting a hand on Kasamatsu's other cheek so there was no way he could get away. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"My agent."

"She's not your mother."

"Shut up!" He almost got up, but the way Kise was looking at him almost made him want to stay.

"You should've told me."

"I just did."

There was a pause, probably not that long, but it still felt like an eternity.

"My fans won't like this."

"At least you _have_ them."

Kise smiled, and brought Kasamatsu's hand up to kiss. "But you have me."


End file.
